THE death of the great Arab writer Naguib Mahfouz reminded me albeit sadly that an avid reader’s worst enemy is: Time. Even Aleya Serour, who worked with Mahfouz for more than 25 years as his literary agent, confesses that during all those years she had only read four or five of his novels. And it was not until she started working on a unique collection of quotations from the works of Naguib Mahfouz that she finally had the opportunity to read all his novels: “I was astounded and fascinated by what I read. Not only by the different forms and styles, not only by his brilliant description of places, and his extraordinary portrayal of characters, but by the philosophical content of his writings,” she says.
“Life’s Wisdom” from the Works of the Nobel Laureate is a delightful little book. In the words of its editor, Aleya Serour, it is a distilled collection of quotations that highlight the writer’s thoughts and views on youth, love, marriage, death, freedom, faith and the soul. Although Mahfouz died before he saw a copy of the book, he was grateful to ‘Al-Sitt Aleya’ (as she was known to him) “for her excellent idea of pulling out the cream of my thoughts from my collected works.” This gem of a book offers an entertaining literary shortcut to the writer’s numerous novels. It furthermore dismisses any excuse for not having an idea about the Arab world’s most well-known novelist.
The Nobel Prize committee says in its citation that Mahfouz “through works rich in nuance, now clear-sightedly realistic, now evocatively ambiguous, has formed an Arabic narrative art that applies to all mankind.” Serour reminds us appropriately that it is “this universal appeal that has created such worldwide demand” for his novels. Great art knows no boundaries. To this day there exist over four hundred editions of his works, translated into thirty-three languages including Icelandic, Faroese and Kazakh.
Mahfouz produced works which are beyond time and place. At this point it is interesting to remember the collaboration between the Mexican director Arturo Ripstein and Mahfouz in 1992 which resulted in a Spanish version of “Bidaya wa Nihaya.” (The Beginning and the End). The story, originally based in Cairo, was transposed to Mexico with astounding success as the film won a number of prizes among them the Grand Prix at the San Sebastian Festival in 1993.
Despite his fame, Mahfouz remained modest and kind. In fact, when he first heard he had won the Nobel Prize he said: “My masters deserved it more than I did” referring to Al-Aqqad, Taha Hussein, Tawfiq Al-Hakkim and Al-Mazni.
Mahfouz’s profound love for the people and the city of Cairo imparted to his work a unique sense of belonging. Throughout his novels, the feeling for home transcends time and space, and gives the reader a feeling of comfort and inner peace. The writer lived all his life on the streets. He never owned a car and did a great deal of walking especially in Old Cairo. He is also famous for spending time in popular cafes. His profound knowledge of his country and its people shows up in his work. His novels depict almost all the national events that occurred in Egypt during the 20th century. But as Ferial Ghazoul rightly remarks, his fiction “has proven to be a matrix engendering a thousand and one different flowers and it is a living proof with its deep-rooted impact on the entire world, that Arab culture is one despite political segmentation.”
One should not forget that Naguib Mahfouz wrote great works before and after he received the Nobel Prize. The award essentially introduced the West to his greatness. In this wonderful little book, Aleya Serour introduces us to the writer’s words of wisdom offering “an intriguing summarization of my thoughts and world-view over sixty years of writing,” explains Mahfouz in the foreword.
As we are witnessing the chaos that is tearing the world apart, reading Mahfouz’s words of wisdom awakens our hearts to the truth: “Why do people laugh, dance in triumph, feel recklessly secure in positions of power? Why do they not remember their true place in the scheme of things and their inevitable end?” asks Mahfouz in The Harafish. “How can we be depressed when hearts have the capacity for love and our souls have the power of faith?” from Midaq Alley.
